


That Smirk

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam Winchester, Cocky Dean Winchester, Coming In Pants, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, First Time, Hair-pulling, M/M, Oral Sex, Pool & Billiards, Sex in/on the Impala (Supernatural), Shy Sam Winchester, Smut, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:20:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22630897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Dean Winchester's famous smirk, the one that attracted every woman within a fifty-kilometre radius.Sam just never thought it would be aimed at him.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 300





	That Smirk

Sam had never been on the receiving end of that stare. You know the one. When Dean Winchester wants somebody, he turns on that gaze, the one that drops panties in a fifty-mile radius. Girls drool, fall over each other to try and get to the source, go a dark red and blush like virgins whenever he smiles in their direction. However, on this one night, something has changed. Something that means that gaze is turned to him.

It might have been the Hunt. Sam’s life came close to being threatened, a particularly angry spirit deciding to send him crashing down two floors. It was by convenience that he landed on an old, rejected couch that was lying outside the window, just enough to save him from broken bones. But Dean hadn't known that, all he saw was shattering glass and Sam falling. The scream, well, it was inhumane. Nobody touched Sam Winchester and got away unscathed, that was made perfectly clear when the Ghost got three salt rounds fired in her direction, before burning the bones.

When Sam stumbled inside, he ran directly into the arms of his brother, who was instantly on him. Hands checking for bruises and broken bones, prodding and poking every inch of him. Dean would never admit that he worried, but Sam could tell. Now, they were in a bar, having just finished Dean and considering whether to head back to the Bunker now, or tomorrow morning. They’d had a few beers, enough to take away the sting of the injuries from the Hunt, and Dean was going up against a couple of locals playing Pool.

Sam was nursing a beer, idly pushing it around, trying to forget what his brother’s touch felt like, trying not to think about the way it felt when Dean had looked him over, concerned and upset, worry filling the green eyes that Sam would gladly drown in. His injuries weren’t too bad, but if he complained, Dean would go all Mother-Hen, and that wasn’t a stage anybody wanted to get to. So, Sam focused on his brother instead, watched the way Dean’s eyes scanned the pool table, thinking about which shot to play next. They should get one in the Bunker, Sam decided thinking how much he enjoyed watching Dean bend over it.

He’d almost died, and had died, too many times for Sam to feel guilty about loving his brother. A conclusion had been reached in his brain, that he was going to die either way, he might as well enjoy his life. As long as Dean didn’t find out, because if that happened? He’d lose Dean, definitely not a path he wanted to go down again. The thought of it, of watching Dean drive away, or worse, die, was not something he could survive.

‘Another round?’ The barmaid asked, who had been watching Dean just as closely as Sam had. He thanked her, tipping generously, because he could appreciate the fact that Dean was good looking. She brought the drink, smiled at the money he slid across, although his eyes didn’t leave Dean. Sure enough, his brother had decided to stop pretending to be crap, upping the stakes to the point where he’d be coming home with $300 dollars. A nice amount, to buy groceries to keep them going past the next Hunt.

Music was playing faintly, in the background, nothing that Sam would have been paying attention to, until that song came on. Ramble On, Led Zeppelin, one of Dean’s favourites. And that was when it happened, the moment that Sam Winchester experienced the stare. He had heard the song enough to start humming along, mouthing words when he wasn’t sipping the beer, and then he looked up.

Dean was staring right at him, and the moment their eyes met, well, time seemed to stop. Cliché as it was, Sam felt helpless, caught under the gaze of his big brother, watched as Dean slowly smirked. That smirk. The one that got under your skin, niggled away until you couldn’t ignore it anymore. Sam, like every other girl and some men that experienced it, was gone. Drowning.

He felt his cheeks darken, his heartrate pick up, the familiar symptoms of arousal that Sam tried to fight for most of his life, laid bare as soon as his brother smirked. It was ridiculous, how easily Dean could have figured out his secret all them years ago, if he’d just turned that womanizing attitude towards Sam. The younger had never felt more vulnerable than right now, open like a book as Dean bent over the table, keeping eye contact with Sam. He lined up the cue, potted one of the balls with ease, stood back up.

It was the confidence. The knowledge that whoever that smirk was aimed at, they were going to fall victim. Sam swallowed hard, tried to break the stare that had to be lasting at least ten seconds now, needed to break free. His FBI pants were getting tighter every second, and if he didn’t do something, Dean would notice. Who was he kidding, Dean probably already knew.

‘Man, I wish my boyfriend would look at me like that.’ Sam startled, almost dropped the beer as he turned to the barmaid, who was eyeing Dean longingly. He almost corrected her, then figured it better if he never mentioned the word “brother” when having eye-sex with Dean. Or at least, that’s what it was on Sam’s end. Dean was probably doing it to wind him up, and as the afterglow of being on the receiving end of the smile began to fade, Sam began to panic. Dean had seen the way he reacted.

‘He… we aren’t… I…’ She gave him a look, one that told Sam to shut up, that he had no need to justify it. Her eyes went wide, and Sam was about to ask what was wrong, but an arm was wrapping around his waist, heavy, but familiar.

‘Everything alright, babe?’ Him. Dean was talking to him. Sam’s mouth opened, his brain desperately trying to come back online, but nothing was working. Because Dean was holding him, that pet name had just been used for him. Sam was pretty sure he was going to melt, right out of the stool he was sitting on and beneath the floorboards. Maybe that would save him from the embarrassment that was coming.

‘Your boyfriend here was just admiring your pool skills.’ Right, now would be the time to die. Anytime now. Dean’s grip tightened on him slightly, and green eyes were now staring right at him. Sam was a goner. Lost.

‘Was he now? Why thank-you.’ That smirk again, and even though it wasn’t aimed at her, the girl’s heart melted slightly. So, Sam was screwed, felt his brain turn-off and his body turn-on as soon as Dean’s lips quirked, followed the movement so he could see the crinkles at the corners of Dean’s eyes, the depth behind the smile. Wow, his brother genuinely was so handsome, not that he’d ever admit that.

‘Aww, you guys are so cute! Let me know if you need anything.’ Sam was still caught, unable to do anything as Dean’s hand slid down to the small of his back, resting there.

‘Alright, Sammy?’ His voice was lower than usual, the same one that accompanied the smirk, and Sam tried to shift subtly enough that Dean wouldn’t notice how hard he currently was. Unfortunately, it didn’t work, Dean’s gaze dropping to his lap and the smile returning.

‘Want to get out of here?’ What was his brother doing? Sam felt a hand take his, blindly followed Dean’s lead like he had done all of his life, right back to the Impala that had always been his version of home. He didn’t speak, not until they were both in the car, and Dean was pulling out onto the road.

‘Dean?’ Dean looked across, something flashing across his face that Sam didn’t recognise, even though he tried to.

‘Don’t overthink this, Sammy. Just one word, yes or no?’ Dean was looking back at the road, fingers tightly holding the wheel, enough that his knuckles had gone white. Sam understood the question, and kind of understood why he was being asked it in such a simple way. After all they had been through, after everything that had happened, why should either of them deny themselves this?

‘Yes.’ There, one word, and it had an effect on Dean. His hands relaxed, the clenched jaw was gone, the worry on his face replaced by the smirk that Sam would never grow tired of. Replacing the worried version of Dean was the cocky, confident one that never failed to make Sam’s heart leap, the one that he could always remember.

‘Motel, or the Bunker?’ Sam thought about both options. The Motel would be quicker, but it meant unpacking their stuff again, it meant Sam had to be quiet. They both did. The Bunker was around three hours drive from here, and he didn’t know if that was too long to wait. So, Sam decided to take some of that courage that his brother seemed to have unlimited amounts of, snatching some to answer.

‘Bunker. But for now,’ Sam moved slowly, closer to his brother’s side, hand reaching for Dean’s thigh, ‘I’ll help you out.’

He watched Dean gulp, the way his brother leaned back and moved his arm, so Sam could have easy access to the tent in the pants. His hand moved over it, squeezed gently while Dean gasped, and that was enough to inspire Sam to unbuckle Dean’s belt. He made light work of it, unzipping quickly and reaching into Dean’s boxers, freeing the hard cock from it. Dean was panting now, eyes hooded, and Sam wanted to savour that image for as long as possible.

In reality, he did it for three seconds, before promptly leaning over and swallowing Dean down, settling himself comfortably so that he could open up his throat. Dean shouted, gripped his hair roughly and tugged, enough that Sam almost finished from it. That wouldn’t do, so Sam got to work, making sure to run his tongue along the length in his mouth, swallowing down as Dean bucked up into him. It was messy, sure, but Dean seemed to be loving it, curses and praises falling from his mouth.

‘Oh, yes, right there Sammy. That’s… oh god, swallow it down, yeah. So pretty like this.’ Sam moaned around the cock filling his mouth, Dean jerking and hissing, the car swerving slightly as he pressed his tongue to the underside of Dean’s cock. His fingers trailed, to where Dean’s balls were tightening, and that was it.

One hand shoved his head down, yanking at his hair in ways that shot pleasure right down Sam’s spine. He swallowed hungrily, making sure not to spill a single drop as Dean emptied himself down his throat, felt his own cock spill into his boxers from the grip Dean had on him. When Dean was no longer jerking, Sam licked him clean, tucked him back inside and sat up. He must have looked a mess, swollen lips and roughed-up hair, cheeks flushed, but Dean was looking at him like he was the only thing worth staring at.

‘C’mere.’ He did, kissed Dean quickly so that his brother could return to watching the road, felt a hand reaching for his thigh. Oh, yeah.

‘You, er, you don’t need to.’ Sam blurted out, watched his brother’s gaze drop to the lack of tightness in Sam’s pants, understanding crossing his face, followed by awe.

‘You… holy shit, little brother. We need to get back to the Bunker.’

Sam agreed.


End file.
